With a concept from kiki_poetry, I am using a line of poetry from an Asian-American or Pacific Islander poet in honor of AAPI Heritage Month.
Today’s line comes from a poem by Don Mee Choi, “Wings of Return”. As per kiki_poetry’s instructions, I will italicize the line from “Wings of Return”.
If I forget your name, please forgive me, I’m not myself today. My memories have memories all their own. Sometimes, the memories come. Sometimes, they go. They have a word for this, you know. What’s the word? My memory isn’t what it used to be. You wouldn’t understand. You’re just so young. Too young. When I was your age. When I was young. My memories have memories all their own. Memory’s memory. Memory’s child. My memory lives inside a dust-filled armoire, inside a hope chest, inside a rarely looked at steamer trunk. My memories are the children of ancestors whose names we’ve forgotten. We’ve forgotten so much. If I forget your name, please forgive me, I’m not myself today. Sometimes, the memories come. Sometimes, they go. You wouldn’t understand. You’re just so young. Too young. When I was your age. When I was young. When I was young. When I was young…
Isabelle Palerma 